


the stars we have not touched

by homoeroticmisogyny



Category: Homoerotic Misogyny (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, POV Outsider, Slice of Life, but i didnt wanna flood the tag so those are the recurring folks, but this is primarily a friendship fic, do you guys ever think about how the club is technically a secret, everyone is mentioned at least once!!! i tried really hard, i wanted to write about their cute friendships and all the different pairings of people, like people must wonder what goes on with all of them, some shippy stuff if you squint, thats what inspired this lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29643336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homoeroticmisogyny/pseuds/homoeroticmisogyny
Summary: Bronwyn knows everything that happens at Atrox Academy.Or at least, she used to. She's got a feeling she's missing something, and that certainly won't do.(or, someone tries to figure out what our favorite unofficial club is up to.)
Relationships: Elena Kuragina/Isabel (Issa) Banquo/Audrey Rose Red Riverdale-Kuragin (implied), Original Female Character & Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	the stars we have not touched

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this idea for aaaages so i hope you like it! also yes bronwyn and sybil are my ocs and they're awful and i love them

If you’d asked Bronwyn Yates a month ago, she would’ve told you that she knows _everything_ that goes on at Atrox Academy. From any budding (and withering) relationships between her peers, to the third years’ running theory about Principal Bestiel’s real age (she was betting on 69, personally) to extensive knowledge on the best and worst hangout spots in the school (best: the always-shady spot under the tree in the East Hall’s field, worst: the corner of the study hall that _definitely_ had some sort of black mold growing from a forgotten sandwich behind a bookcase), she knows it all. Sure, call her nosy all you want, but in her opinion, it’s something to be proud of. 

Now, though … she’s found herself unsure. She’s been getting the distinct feeling that she’s _missing something_ lately, and after a few weeks of watching her classmates, she’s almost certain that’s what’s happening.

And something happening at Atrox that she’s not aware of? 

Well, that certainly wouldn’t do.

She’d first noticed it a few weeks into the semester — she’d walked into History class, shooting Mr. B&G a wave and a _hello!_ as she settled into her favourite spot, right in the back corner of the room. Perfect for people watching, obviously. And people-watch she did, and boy, did she see something interesting that day.

As any good gossip worth her salt, Bronwyn knew pretty much everything about all of her classmates. She wasn’t as up to date on the younger years (though she was definitely working on it), but there wasn’t a single third year she didn’t have all the dirt on, whether they liked it or not. This included roommates, and friendships, and all that sat in between.

So obviously, Brownyn knew that Audrey and Emma were roommates, and that they totally _hated_ each other (or at least, Emma hated Audrey. Audrey always did that weird flirting thing with her, but it was pretty obvious it was just to annoy them — or at least that’s what everyone assumed. Either way, Emma definitely hated her. ) 

Okay, honestly, everyone knew that; it didn’t take a gossip to pick up on the tension between the pair of roommates, but it made her feel better to attribute it to her _excellent_ sleuthing skills, thank you very much. 

The point is, they definitely did not get along.

Yet here they were, bent over together over Zoe’s desk (and since when did either of them talk to her?), all three of them giggling over something she couldn’t quite see over their heads. 

That was definitely weird.

She’d brushed it off though, at first. Sure, it was out of the ordinary, but they _were_ roommates. Maybe Audrey and Emma had come up with some sort of truce, and she’s pretty sure Zoe and Audrey had been paired up for some project a semester or two ago, so technically it wasn’t _too_ strange for the three of them to be talking. It was certainly out of the ordinary, though.

But oh no, it didn’t end there. 

(In hindsight, she wishes it had.)

Only a few days after the History Class Incident (as she’d begun to refer to it), she’d spotted Audrey again. This time, though, she was accompanied by two second years. Both shorter than her, though she supposed with Audrey that wasn’t too odd.

No, what was odd was _everything else_ about the interaction.

She’d seen the two of them around before, but never together, and certainly never around Audrey. Bronwyn narrowed her eyes as she watched them, peering over her book as inconspicuously as she could manage — which, in her case, was actually pretty conspicuous. Fortunately for her, the three of them seemed far too invested in their argument to notice her quite obviously staring at them from across the room. 

Well, she thought it was an argument, at least.

The darker haired of the pair seemed genuinely angry (Issa, if she was remembering correctly from Mrs. Nutt’s roll call), but the blonde (Elena, according to the handful of students who were apparently scared of them, but looking at them now, she’s not totally sure why) just had an amused look on her face, and Audrey was smirking down at them with way more confidence than someone currently receiving a verbal beatdown should have. All three of their skirts, much too short for uniform guidelines, Bronwyn noted, swished as they walked, the clack of each of their heels hitting the ground punctuating each of Issa’s sentences. 

Had it stopped there, maybe Bronwyn wouldn’t even have remembered it. After all, while it had been an argument, from the snippets of what she could hear, it didn’t sound like anything worth looking into. Something about drawing and Audrey — she wasn’t sure, but the point is that it wouldn’t serve as any sort of gossip, so she didn’t bother.

Right as she was about to lose interest, though, the energy between the trio shifted. Suddenly cutting her off mid sentence, Audrey leaned forward, bringing her face close to Issa’s as she whispered something too quiet for Bronwyn to hear, and Elena reached closer, grabbing one of Issa’s hands with a sharp grin and a quiet comment of her own. The shorter of the trio stammered, suddenly turning bright red, and Bronwyn was struck with the sudden feeling that she was _intruding_ on something. Turning back to her book with a blush of her own, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. That was certainly new.

-

After that, she couldn’t stop _noticing_ things. 

A pair of first years had walked by her on her way into the library, both waving in unison to Elena and the brunette sitting next to her (a first year named Lucy, she believed — they’d been temporary roommates at the beginning of the semester for that student buddy thing, she was pretty sure). The quartet had exchanged smiles and greetings before the first years left and Elena and Lucy returned to their conversation, and Bronwyn narrowed her eyes at how close they were sitting. 

A week later, she saw that same pair, this time walking across the field and shouting dual hellos to Emma and Zoe, sitting together under a tree with an open notebook between them, but she could’ve sworn they hadn’t looked that similar the first time. 

Maybe she just remembered wrong.

-

“Bron, isn’t this, like, a _little_ excessive?” Sybil Aldrich, Bronwyn’s roommate-slash-best friend-slash-sidekick (even though she was currently doing a _very_ bad job at it), said, arms folded across the back of her chair and chin resting against her forearms as she fixed Bronwyn with a Look. 

Bronwyn, looking over from her bulletin board, gave her a Look right back. 

“It is _not,_ thank you very much.” Twirling a pin between her fingers, she let her fingers ghost across one of the many strings adorning the board, biting her lip as her gaze flit from Ava (a second year she’d overheard deep in discussion with Lucy — something about a Nick and Jordan?) to Emma to Wren (another second year, who she’d spotted arguing with Audrey and Elena over a _very_ large book, but she hadn’t been able to make out what about before they’d glanced her way and she’d ducked behind a plant). She squinted at their photos, eyebrows furrowing in thought. She’d never seen the three of them together, but they _did_ wear those matching necklaces …

“Hey, can you pass me another string? I think I’m onto something.”

Sybil, to her credit, did pass her another string, even if it was accompanied by an overdramatic groan.

-

It genuinely felt like they were everywhere. Everywhere Bronwyn looked, more connections were made. 

The day after she’d made the necklace connection, she’d walked by Ava, Wren, and Emma discussing something, hands moving vividly through the air as they tossed the names Dean and Sam and Cas between them. Those weren’t students here, she was certain of that (there had been a Dean, but he’d graduated in Bronwyn’s first year, and the only Cas she knew of was a Cas _sandra_ , and they were definitely talking about a guy), but the three of them all seemed to speak of them with a strong familiarity.

That night, she’d noticed the writing on their necklaces. 

It didn’t explain anything.

-

She’d been watching Elena’s roommate (Tal, she was pretty sure) for a few minutes now, having noticed her arguing with the librarian before settling on the floor outside the library, a large history book propped up against her knees. So far, nothing was happening, and she was beginning to think that maybe her assumption that she was involved because of her roommate was wrong —

Until Issa and her roommate Max passed by, giggling about something or other, pausing when they spotted Tal, and dropped down against the wall to sit with her. The three of them spoke for a while, talking about something or other that Bronwyn was too far away to hear (she was already pushing it pretending to be going through her backpack for the last, like, 20 minutes, she couldn’t risk getting closer). Issa and Max left eventually, and Tal continued to read until Audrey passed by holding an equally large book and she’d jumped up to her feet, the two of them quickly falling into a conversation full of complicated sounding names as they made their way down the hallway.

Well, she was definitely also involved. At least this meant her gut was right, which gave her the slightest bit of pride, but that was quickly dashed at the reminder that this just meant she now had even more strings to tie together.

-

“They could just be _friends_ , Bron. You know, like how people have friends?”

“You’re not listening, it goes deeper than that! It’s just such a — look, there’s too many of them involved for it to not be _something_ deeper!”

“They could just be a club or something. It’s not rocke—”

“Holy _shit_ , you’re a genius! I could kiss you right now!”

Her only response was a strangled sounding squawk, but Bronwyn didn’t notice, already too invested in her bulletin board once more.

-

She’d barely made it a step into Mrs. Nutt’s classroom when she’d spotted them — Issa and Zoe, curled up in the corner and clutching each other, filling the room with the sound of loud sobbing. Mrs. Nutt herself was crouched next to them, motherly hands carding through their hair, which only seemed to make the two of them sob harder.

She’d barely managed to get a sound out in confusion before a blonde first year looked up at her — June, Lucy’s current roommate now that the buddy system had ended — with an apologetic smile, and answered before she managed to speak, as though anticipating the question. 

“The theatre got closed down for renovations this weekend, Mrs. Nutt just told us. They’re not taking it very well.” She ran a hand through her hair, turning to glance back at the two of them. Quieter this time, mostly to herself, she spoke again. “I might have to warn the others. Doesn’t look like they’re stopping any time soon.”

Already exhausted at the thought of having to add yet another string to her board, Bronwyn slipped away, already starting to lose herself in her thoughts — but not before walking by those two first years again, looking even more strangely similar than before ... or maybe they’d always looked like that? Was it a trick of the light? 

Maybe Sybil was right about how she needed to stop staying up late. 

-

Sybil made her take a day off from investigating. It was getting _weird_ , she insisted, and Bronwyn _had_ kind of been slacking on her assignments, so maybe she was right. It was probably time for a break.

A few hours into said break, though, when she’d looked up to people-watch for a moment as she took a break from her essay, she found her attention pulled to the opposite end of the library. Max and June sat, two open notebooks in front of them, having a vivid but hushed discussion about what she imagined was probably written in the notebooks. Resting her cheek against her palm, Brownyn watched them curiously, taking in the new dynamic — she hadn’t seen the two of them together yet.

Technically, she didn’t seek them out, and she was taking a break anyway, so this was fine. 

After a moment, Elena appeared behind the duo, seemingly out of nowhere, hands clapping down on each of their shoulders. Neither of them reacted in surprise, though, almost as if they’d been expecting her to show up. They dropped into the chair next to Max, punching his arm playfully and shooting a mock wounded look in June’s direction. 

“You guys were talking about lesbian Hamlet without me? I’m offended.”

A harsh shushing sound came from the librarian’s corner at Elena’s dramatic declaration, and the three of them shared a look before bursting into muffled giggling, leaning against each other as they attempted to quiet themselves down before they got another warning. 

Bronwyn had to hide a smile of her own before she turned her attention back to her essay. The next time she’d looked up, the three of them were gone.

-

If she had any doubts about this just being a random series of coincidental friendships, all of those were dashed the second she exited East Hall’s doors (take that, Sybil!).

Bunched up underneath the always-shady tree in the field (and a couple hanging out in the branches), a group of people sat, laughing and sharing food from the various tupperwares spread across the blanket they were all resting on. 

Even from this far away, Bronwyn could identify most of them — Audrey with her legs stretched out across Elena’s lap, gesturing through a discussion with Wren, and Issa pouting and stretching her legs across Max’s in retaliation and interrupting his conversation with the pair of first years (who’s names she still couldn’t figure out, and who she still swore didn’t always look this identical), though he didn’t seem too upset about it. Ava was holding up a tupperware of something to Zoe and Lucy, the two of them looking up from the photos they’d been going through together and peering down into it curiously, before grinning and reaching a hand eagerly inside to Ava’s delight. There were others, too, a couple unfamiliar first years deep in conversation with June that she set a mental reminder to look into once she got back to her dorm. 

She didn’t realize she’d stopped moving until Emma walked by her, their shoulder brushing against hers as they called out a hello to the group and jolting Bronwyn back to reality. Suddenly realizing that she had about 0.5 seconds before they were _all_ looking in her direction and would certainly notice her standing and staring, she quickly turned to face the opposite direction, jogging down the rest of the path as a chorus of greetings echoed behind her.

She had to go update the board.

-

“Holy shit, Syl, give me another pin!” 

“I am, like, _so_ close to sending you to the counselor. This is getting weird.” 

She gave her a pin anyway. Bronwyn gave her a kiss on the cheek before turning back to her board, twirling a red string around her fingers. 

-

Fucking _finally_.

She’s been following that pair of first years (May and Dieke, if Sybil was to be believed and hadn’t just made up a pair of names when she’d asked her for help) for like, ten minutes now. After seeing them at the picnic, she’d spotted them hanging out with Tal a week later, and Dieke and Lucy sat together at lunch this afternoon, so she was, like, _pretty_ sure they were involved.

At this point though, after _ten fucking minutes_ of walking, it was starting to feel a little pointless (and kind of creepy). Right when Bronwyn was starting to consider giving up and admitting that Sybil was maybe right and she was probably overreacting and freaking out over nothing, though, they swerve around a corner, disappearing into a room that Bronwyn’s pretty sure she’s literally never seen anyone go into _ever_. Even through the shut door, a chorus of “hey!”s sounds through at their entrance, which means the rest of them should definitely be in there, and after taking a moment (obviously, so it doesn’t seem like she was following them, even though she totally was), she surges towards the classroom.

Bronwyn all but throws the door open, burning with the knowledge that her status as Top Gossip at Atrox Academy was _finally_ going to be restored once she finally figures out what the fuck is going _on_ with these people, and she twists her head around, eyes hungrily taking in the scene in front of her and … oh. Oh, this is — huh. 

She’s not quite sure what she’s looking at. 

It’s definitely a club of some sort, that much is obvious (and she’d already figured that part out), but as for the rest of it, she’s still stumped. She’s pretty sure no one’s even used the classrooms down here for actual classes in _years_ , let alone as a clubroom. Despite that, the room’s been decked out in all the trappings of a … well, she’s not exactly sure what kind of club this is supposed to be. 

Half of them are strewn across the desks, the chatter of at least 5 different conversations filling up the room, while the rest of them are yelling at the front of the room, Audrey standing proudly and seemingly unaffected by the fact that, like, five people are shouting at her. A paper ball sails through the air and hits her in the forehead, and she only grins wider.

A blackboard sits at the front of the room next to her, the words _KURAGINCEST REAL? DISCUSS_ written across it in loopy script, a smaller _no!!!!_ in distinctly different handwriting written underneath it, and off to the side, right on the edge of the board — is that a drawing of Bill Clinton? 

She turns her attention to something else before she can register the rest of the drawing. She’s already seen too much. Unfortunately for her, her gaze falls on something equally as baffling.

That’s definitely a tank of shrimp in the corner. Clubs aren’t even _allowed_ to have pets at Atrox (and she should know, she’s been trying to convince the admin to let the archery club get hamster for, like, two years now), but they’re definitely there, and — yeah, they’re moving, so they’re alive. Where do you even get that many shrimp?

A cough snaps her out of her thoughts, hitting her like a sheet of ice water, and Bronwyn suddenly remembers that she is not alone in the room. She turns her gaze to the club members strewn across the room, and only _slightly_ wilts under the dozens of pairs of eyes staring at her. They’re not _all_ looking at her (those two scary first years, the ones she’s pretty sure somehow look even _more_ alike than they did last time she saw them, are still deep in conversation together), but most of them are. Bronwyn is not easily intimidated, but there’s also so much weird shit she can handle in one day. Seriously, she’s pretty sure that’s a literal fucking ghost sitting on one of the desks, if the slightly translucent legs are anything to go from. There’s another cough, and Elena raises her eyebrows at her, and _wow_ , that’s way more intimidating than it should be. Maybe she should reconsider not finding her scary.

“Um,” she starts, too loudly, before she clears her throat, lifting a hand with an awkward laugh. She takes a step backwards, waving her hand through the air as she pulls the door shut along with her. “Sorry, uh. Wrong room. Sorry. Continue with, uh, whatever you’re doing.” 

_You know what_ , Bronwyn decides, holding the strap of her book bag to her chest as she strides down the hallway at a totally normal pace and not way faster than normal at all, _maybe I don’t need to know_ everything _that happens here. Almost everything is good enough._

-

(A week later, Audrey, Emma, Macy, and Zoe ambush her at the end of one of their classes, making her swear not to tell anyone. She doesn’t want to talk about it.)


End file.
